


Coffee, Detectives, and Hope

by TheLadyOfManyFandoms



Series: The Empty Hearse One-Shots [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: F/M, Post-Reichenbach, fall - Freeform, you have a new life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 03:16:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3274658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyOfManyFandoms/pseuds/TheLadyOfManyFandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You go to a coffee stand with the intention of a warm drink - but meet Greg and Anderson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee, Detectives, and Hope

**Author's Note:**

> This is was inspired by Anderson and Greg's little coffee conversation.   
> "It's obvious! That's how he did it!"

You had just finished writing a chapter in your book, ‘ _Behind the Doors of 221B Baker St._ ’, and decided to take some away from writing. You threw on some pants, a grey long-sleeved top, and wrapped a plaid shirt around your waist before dashing out of the house. 

You walked down to a small coffee stand outside the Scotland Yard Courthouse and purchased something warm for the day. Unbeknownst to you, Philip Anderson was passing by when he noticed you by the stand. This might be the only opportunity he’d get to confront you for the truth.

“I figured it out!” Anderson shouted as he approached you, “Sherlock’s alive!” 

He was completely oblivious to the look of surprise on your face and how you almost dropped the hot coffee at the mention of Sherlock’s name. 

“W-what?” you stuttered.

“Oh, don’t play clueless with me. It’s not convincing.” Anderson waved off, “You’ve known this whole time that Sherlock faked his death, is alive and well, making his way back home as we speak and … you have no clue what I’m talking about, do you?” 

You frowned as the former-detective of Scotland Yard realised that you weren’t following on. 

“You still think he’s dead.” Anderson sighed. 

The memory of Sherlock on the rooftop at Bart’s flashed before your eyes. The way he stood on the ledge, how he tossed his phone aside and fell, his lifeless body on the… 

You shook the horrific images from your mind, not wanting to go through that trauma again, and looked at the man before you,

“I’ve gone through all of this already. I can’t find any evidence suggesting otherwise.” You told Anderson softly. Lestrade spotted you with Anderson by the coffee stall and groaned as he walked over.

“Anderson, I told you not to drag her into this.” He scolded. You looked at the Detective, as he arrived, and squinted,

“Drag me into what? Have you found a lead into Sherlock’s fall?” You asked, a slight ringing of hope in your voice. Lestrade shook his head,

“No, it’s nothing like that. Anderson, here, is guilt-ridden and prepared to believe anything in order to justify Sherlock’s survival.”

“Sherlock did survive. I don’t know how, but I’ll prove it.” Anderson interjected. You felt bad for shooting Anderson’s theory down and looked at Lestrade,

“Maybe we could look into –”

“No.” Lestrade said firmly, cutting you off, “You did this before and almost drove yourself insane. I’m not letting you fall into old habits.”

“Greg, I’m not your daughter.” You sighed with a soft smile. He was always so fatherly. 

“No, you’re not. But if thinking like that keeps you safe, then so be it.” Lestrade replied.


End file.
